Claws & Crochet

Part 14

WARNER

"It seems you're a fan of large dogs," a snide voice comes from just ahead of us on the sidewalk, forcing me to take my eyes off of Zoey's smiling face.

"Hello, Mrs. Applewood." I keep my voice cordial, even as the sneering woman makes that hard to do. Her animosity toward me is only slightly understandable.

I'm a wolf. She hates wolves.

Mainly because her daughter is dating one of the pack members.

As Zoey adjusts Bruce's leash in her hands, she glances between the two of us, clearly picking up on the tension but having no idea where it's coming from. And it's not like I can explain.

As much as I'd like to.

"I'm a werewolf. But a friendly one. Can I please bury my face in your neck to smell more of your delicious earthy scent that I pick up with my supernatural nose? And after that, can I carry you back to my place and show you just how friendly I can be?"

But I don't say any of that. Yet.

After a conversation with Roderick, I have a good idea what Zoey's alluring scent means for me.

"Zoey," I keep my tone cordial, "you met Mrs. Applewood at Sip 'N Stitch."

Recognition dawns in my companion's eyes, and she turns back to the frowning woman with a genuine smile. "Yes. I did. You were making quilting squares, weren't you? I haven't tried quilting yet, but I want to. Do you have any tips? Is there a good fabric store in town?"

With her curious questions, Zoey takes a step toward Mrs. Applewood, who looks stunned at the enthusiastic greeting. She opens her mouth, then glances down to see Bruce sniffing her immaculate heels. The stodgy woman shuffles back a step with a huff, glaring at the both of us.

"I don't associate with dogs."

Zoey's smile fades, and the loss of it chips away at my normally unshakable good humor. The bigots in this town can insult me all they want, but Zoey doesn't deserve any of their animosity.

"He's friendly." Zoey offers, her fingers fiddling with one of Bruce's ears.

The woman sniffs, her scowl focusing on me. "Oh, I'm sure they seem that way." Finally done with her not-so-subtle barbs, Mrs. Applewood clutches her purse tight to her shoulder and crosses the street before continuing on her way.

"Wow." Zoey's lips slowly circle the word, and I'm torn between my simmering fury and my fascination with watching her mouth move. Her chin tilts up, brown eyes catching mine. "Do you think she needs medical help removing that stick from her ass?"

For a moment, I can do nothing but stare. Then laughter explodes through me, and I lean back against the nearest building to keep my balance as I lose it. Zoey offers an almost secretive smile. She crouches beside Bruce, muttering nonsense baby talk and giving his chest a scratch while he pants, his massive tongue lolling and his tail wagging.

I suck in air through my nose, trying to stifle my unrelenting chuckles. But the deep breaths only pull in more of her maple scent, and saliva collects in my mouth.

This woman is making me both horny and hungry.

As if reading my mind, Zoey straightens and waves for me to continue walking. "We're wasting your lunch break."

I shrug but can't get rid of my grin. "Any time I spend with you can't be considered a waste."

A lot of girls' blush and giggle when I flirt with them. It's a fun reaction. I love to hear people laugh.

But Zoey doesn't get embarrassed. Instead, she offers me a solemn nod. "That's true."

Damn. She's perfect. Getting her to crack will be all the sweeter because she doesn't give her laughter away for free. She's making me work.

I accept the challenge.

"Sandwiches?" I shove off the wall and take a chance by reaching down to twine our fingers together.

"Sandwiches." She agrees.

She glances at our clasped palms but doesn't pull away.

I have to give her hand up when we reach the cafe and go inside to place our lunch orders. Once we're sitting down at an outside table, I lose interest in my food. There's maybe thirty minutes before I need to get back to the build site, and I want to spend them all getting to know the woman across from me.

"So you're in your grandma's old cabin and you're buying up a shop's worth of power tools. Is there a remodel on the docket?"

Zoey offers Bruce a potato chip while answering. "I wouldn't say a remodel, exactly. More like a revamp. And a clean out. I'm just here to sort through Minnie's stuff and make the cabin prettier for sale."

"I don't want this to come out the wrong way, but didn't your grandmother pass close to a year back?" Not my real questions. More like . . .

Why did you stay away for so long? Why haven't you been here my whole life?

"She did. Someone should have come down here sooner. But my mom is really busy. She has a popular morning show on the radio up in Denver. Kinda hard to take vacation. Still"—Zoey hesitates, fiddling with the pickle on her plate—"from the little she's said about it, I think living here was a not-so-great childhood. I guess Minnie was kind of reclusive?"

She meets my eyes after that last bit, her honeyed eyebrows raising.

I nod. "Didn't see her around town much."

Zoey sighs as she scratches Bruce's giant block head. "When I realized Mom might never come here, I decided to volunteer."

"Really? Just like that?"

Zoey grimaces. "To be honest, I was also looking for a reason to get away from Denver. After The Incident."

"The Incident?" I force myself not to lean forward, instead picking up my sandwich. One huge bite keeps my mouth full and too busy to pester for more details.

Zoey chomps down on a chip and stares off into space. I wonder if I've lost her attention, or if she didn't mean to let that slip. Still, I want to push her. I want to know all there is to learn about Zoey Gunner.

To distract myself, I reach under the table to slip Bruce a piece of roast beef from my sandwich. A fed dog is a good ally.

"Okay." Zoey returns her attention to me. "I've decided. The embarrassment has dimmed enough that I'm willing to tell you what happened."

Author's note: Thanks so much for reading! What do you think 'The Incident' could be?!